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University  of  California  •  Berkeley 


OLD  PLANTATION  MELODIES 


THE 

OLD  PLANTATION 
MELODIES 


WRITTEN  and  COMPOSED 
BY 

STEPHEN    COLLINS    FOSTER 

WALTER    KITTREDGE 

and  others 

ILLUSTRATED  BY 

CHARLES  COPELAND  and 
MARY   HALLOCK   FOOTE 


H.  M.  CALDWELL  CO. 
PUBLISHERS  [>?<j  NEW  YORK 
AND  BOSTON 


LOAN  STACK 


Copyright,  1851,  BY  FIRTH,  POND,  &  COMPANY;  1879,  BY  MRS.  S.  C.  FOSTER  AND  MRS. 
MARION  FOSTER  WELCH;  1887,  BY  TTCKNOR  AND  COMPANY.  All  rights  reserved.  Pub 
lished  by  permission  of  OLIVER  DITSON  &  COMPANY,  owners  of  the  Copyright. 

Copyright,  1852,  BY  FIRTH,  POND,  AND  COMPANY;  1880,  BY  MRS.  S.  C.  FOSTER  AND  MRS. 
MARION  FOSTER  WELCH;  AND  1888,  BY  TICKNOR  AND  COMPANY.  All  rights  reserved. 
Published  by  permission  of  OLIVER  DITSON  &  COMPANY,  owners  of  the  Copyright. 

Copyright,  1853,  BY  FIRTH,  POND,  AND  COMPANY;  1881,  BY  MRS.  MATHEW  D.  WILEY  AND 
MRS.  MARION  FOSTER  WELCH;  1887,  BY  TICKNOR  AND  COMPANY.  All  rights  reserved. 
Published  by  permission  of  WILLIAM  A.  POND  &  COMPANY,  owners  of  the  Copyright. 

Copyright,  1864,  BY  OLIVER  DITSON  AND  COMPANY;  1890,  BY  TICKNOR  AND  COMPANY.  All 
rights  reserved.  Used  by  permission  of  OLIVER  DITSON  AND  COMPANY,  owners  of  the 
Copyright. 

Copyright,  1865,  BY  ROOT  AND  CADY;  AND  1888,  BY  TICKNOR  AND  COMPANY.  All  rights 
reserved.  Published  by  permission  of  S.  BRAINARD'S  SONS,  owners  of  the  Copyright. 

Copyright,  1865,  BY  ROOT  AND  CADY;  1889,  BY  TICKNOR  AND  COMPANY.  All  rights  reserved. 
Published  by  permission  of  S.  BRAINARD'S  SONS,  owners  of  the  Copyright. 

Copyright,  1888,  BY  MRS.  MATHEW  D.  WILEY  AND  MRS.  MARION  FOSTER  WELSH,  AND  TICK 
NOR  &  COMPANY.  All  rights  reserved.  Published  by  permission  of  WILLIAM  A.  POND 
&  COMPANY,  joint  owners  of  the  Copyright. 


CONTENTS 

PAGE 

MY  OLD   KENTUCKY  HOME   ........       n 

By  Stephen  Collins  Foster. 

THE  SUWANEE  RIVER        *. 39 

By  Stephens  Collins  Foster. 

TENTING  ON  THE  OLD  CAMP  GROUND   .   .   .   .67 

By  Walter  Kittredge. 

MARCHING  THROUGH  GEORGIA 93 

By  Henry  C.  Work. 

MASSA'S  IN  THE  COLD,   COLD   GROUND        .       .       .       .119 
By  Stephen  Collins  Foster. 

TRAMP!   TRAMP!   TRAMP!   THE  BOYS  ARE  MARCHING    .     145 
By  George  F.  Root. 

NELLIE  WAS  A  LADY 171 

By  Stephen  Collins  Foster. 


103 


\w, 


MY  OLD   KENTUCKY   HOME,  GOOD   NIGHT! 


f  '**"  young  folks  roll      onthe   lit  -  tie  cab-in  floor,      All 


mj/fcld  K&Wk-j  Home,     good- night  1^ 


J.JU.Jf. 


Kentuck-y  Home,  For  the  old  Kentuck-y  H 


COPYRIGHT,  1853.  by  FIRTH,  POND,  AND  COMPANY  ;    1881,  by  Mrs.  MATHEW  D.  WILEY  and  Mrs.  MARIOM 
FOSTER  WELCH;    1887,  by  TICKNOR  AND  COMPANY.— All  rights  reserved. 


MY  OLD   KENTUCKY  HOME,  GOOD-NIGHT! 


THE  sun  shines  bright  in  the  old  Kentucky  home ; 
'Tis  summer,  the  darkeys  are  gay; 
The  corn-top  's  ripe,  and  the  meadow  's  in  the  bloom, 

While  the  birds  make  music  all  the  day. 
The  young  folks  roll  on  the  little  cabin  floor, 

All  merry,  all  happy  and  bright; 

By-'n'-by  Hard  Times  comes  a-knocking  at  the  door, — 
Then  my  old  Kentucky  Home,  good-night ! 

CHORUS. 

Weep  no  more,  my  lady; 
Oh,  weep  no  more  to-day ! 

We  will  sing  one  song  for  the  old  Kentucky  Home, 
For  the  old  Kentucky  Home  far  away. 

They  hunt  no  more  for  the  possum  and  the  coon 

On  the  meadow,  the  hill,  arid  the  shore  ; 
They  sing  no  more,  by  the  glimmer  of  the  moon, 

On  the  bench  by  the  old  cabin  door. 
The  day  goes  by  like  a  shadow  o'er  the  heart, 

With  sorrow  where  all  was  delight; 
The  time  has  come  when  the  darkeys  have  to  part,  — 

Then  my  old  Kentucky  Home,  good-night ! 

CHORUS. 

The  head  must  bow,  and  the  back  will  have  to  bend, 

Wherever  the  darkey  may  go ; 
A  few  more  days,  and  the  trouble  all  will  end 

In  the  field  where  the  sugar-canes  grow ; 
A  few  more  days  for  to  tote  the  weary  load,  — 

No  matter,  't  will  never  be  light ; 
A  few  more  days  till  we  totter  on  the  road,  — 

Then  my  old  Kentucky  Home,  good-night! 

CHORUS. 


V 


/Hk/'peit 


V 

*/ 


e  ciLeep,- 

@/^e*, 

^  joiMl-ivijfKt! 


CHRISTINE    NILSSON 

SHE     APPEARED    WHEN     SINGING    "THE    SWANEE     RIVER. 


OLD   FOLKS  AT  HOME. 


Way  d9wn    up  -  on    de     Swa 


her,  vj  Far,  far 


•     *          *   TP     niw^ 


Dere's  wha   my  hea 


grows  wca  •  ry,    Par    from  de  old    folka    at  home. 


COPYRIGHT.  1851,  by  FIRTH,  POND,  &  Co.;   1879,  by  Mrs.  S.  C.  FOSTER  and  Mrs.  MARION  FOSTER  WELCH i 
1887,  by  TlCKNOR  AND  COMPANY.  —  All  rights  reserved. 


OLD    FOLKS    AT    HOME. 


WAY  down  upon  de  Swanee  ribber, 
Far,- far  away, 
Dere  's  wha  my  heart  is  turning  ebber, 

Dere's  wha  de  old  folks  stay. 
All  up  and  down  de  whole  creation 

Sadly  I  roam, 

Still  longing  for  de  old  plantation, 
And  for  de  old  folks  at  home. 

CHORUS. 

All  de  world  am  sad  and  dreary, 

Ebry where  I  roam  ; 
Oh,  darkeys,  how  my  heart  grows  weary 

Far  from  de  old  folks  at  home! 


All  round  de  little  farm  I  wander'd 

When  I  was  young ; 
Den  many  happy  days  I  squander'd, 

Many  de  songs  I  sung. 
When  I  was  playing  wid  my  brudder, 

Happy  was  I  ; 
Oh,  take  me  to  my  kind  old  mudder ! 

Dere  let  me  live  and  die. 


CHORUS 


One  little  hut  among  de  bushes, 

One  dat  I  love, 
Still  sadly  to  my  mem'ry  rushes, 

No  matter  where  I  rove. 
When  will  I  see  de  bees  a-humming 

All  round  de  comb  ? 
When  will  I  hear  de  banjo  tumming, 

Down  in  my  good  old  home  ? 


CHORUS. 


TENTING  ON  THE  OLD  CAMP  GROUND. 

u  Tempo  di ; 


We 're  tent  -  ing    to-night    on     the    old    Campground,       Give,  us        a     song       to 


cheer         Our    we/i  -  ry  hearts,    a    song    of   home,      AndJVi 


To      see      the  dawn    of     peace 


t¥ 

Tent-ing  'to-nighl>         Tent-ing    to-night, 

3^7-  r    r  +--T-Tt-c=3=e=^ 

^±++-1^^^-  =H 

y     b     y     y 
Tenting  on  the  old  Campground. 

U'    1 

—  V—  +—  V-J  L 

1_  1| 

COPYRIGHT,  1864  by  OLIVER  DITSON  AND  COMPANY  ;  1890,  by  TICKNOR  AND  COMPANY. 
All  rights  reserved. 


TENTING  ON  THE  OLD  CAMP  GROUND. 


WE  'RE  tenting  to-night  on  the  old  Camp  ground  ; 
Give  us  a  song  to  cheer 
Our  weary  hearts,  —  a  song  of  home, 
And  friends  we  love  so  dear. 

CHORUS. 
Many  are  the  hearts  that  are  weary  to-night, 

Wishing  for  the  war  to  cease  ; 
Many  are  the  hearts  looking  for  the  right 
To  see  the  dawn  of  peace. 
Tenting  to-night, 
Tenting  to-night, 
Tenting  on  the  old  Camp  ground. 

We  Ve  been  tenting  to-night  on  the  old  Camp  ground, 

Thinking  of  days  gone  by, 
Of  the  lov'd  ones  at  home  that  gave  us  the  hand, 

And  the  tear  that  said,  "  Good  bye ! "  CHORUS. 

We  are  tired  of  war  on  the  old  Camp  ground : 

Many  are  dead  and  gone 
Of  the  brave  and  true  who  Ve  left  their  homes  ; 

Others  have  been  wounded  long.  CHORUS. 

We  've  been  fighting  to-day  on  the  old  Camp  ground, 

Many  are  lying  near; 
Some  are  dead,  and  some  are  dying, 

Many  are  in  tears. 

CHORUS. 
Many  are  the  hearts  that  are  weary  to-night 

Wishing  for  the  war  to  cease  ; 
Many  are  the  hearts  looking  for  the  right 
To  see  the  dawn  of  peace. 
Dying  to-night, 
Dying  to-night, 
Dying  on  the  old  Camp  ground. 


we  love,  s© 


V*U*i 

VM 


us 

f-ke  K&i\ci, 


f         .T**3hf-?-. 


dviraf, 

j     & 


tfrii 


MARCHING  THROUGH  GEORGIA. 


Bring        the  good      old        bu    -    gle,      boys,     we'll        sing  an  -  oth    -    er        song  — 


Sing  it     with 


spir    -   it          that       will         start          the    world      a    j/Aong  — 

±\   M/Wsl* 


ft        i 

=*= 

=33  —  2=j  —  3  —  jp  —  i  —  i  —  £=j 

flag 

that  makes    you 

freeJ  " 

So        we       sang       the      cho   •    rus       from      At  - 

f    -       r 

fL 

=Li  '1  —  '  —  F  —  p  —  ^  F    g^j 

-F  — 

r 

Ian  •  ta          to        the     sea,          While       we       were  march-  ing  through    Geor  -     -  gia 

^=p^^^g^E^^^=l 


COPYRIGHT,  1865,  BY  ROOT  AND  CADY;  1888,  BY  TICKNOR  AND  COMPANY.—^//  rights  reserved. 


MARCHING  THROUGH  GEORGIA. 

WRITTEN  IN  HONOR  OF  SHERMAN'S  FAMOUS  MARCH  FROM 
"ATLANTA  TO  THE  SEA." 


BRING  the  good  old  bugle,  boys,  we'll  sing  another  song — 
Sing  it  with  a  spirit  that  will  start  the  world  along  — 
Sing  it  as  we  used  to  sing  it,  fifty  thousand  strong, 
While  we  were  marching  through  Georgia. 

CHORUS. 

"  Hurrah  !    Hurrah  !   we  bring  the  jubilee  ! 
Hurrah  !    Hurrah  !    the  flag  that  makes  you  free  !  " 
So  we  sang  the  chorus  from  Atlanta  to  the  sea, 
While  we  were  marching  through  Georgia. 

How  the  darkeys  shouted  when  they  heard  the  joyful  sound  ! 
How  the  turkeys  gobbled  which  our  commissary  found! 
How  the  sweet  potatoes  even  started  from  the  ground, 

While  we  were  marching  through  Georgia.  CHORUS. 

Yes,  and  there  were  Union  men  who  wept  with  joyful  tears, 
When  they  saw  the  honor'd  flag  they  had  not  seen  for  years ; 
Hardly  could  they  be  restrained  from  breaking  forth  in  cheers, 
While  we  were  marching  through  Georgia.  CHORUS. 

"  Sherman's  dashing  Yankee  boys  will  never  reach  the  coast ! " 
So  the  saucy  rebels  said,  and  'twas  a  handsome  boast; 
Had  they  not  forgot,  alas  !   to  reckon  with  the  host, 

While  we  were  marching  through  Georgia.  CHORUS. 

So  we  made  a  thoroughfare  for  Freedom  and  her  train, — 
Sixty  miles  in  latitude,  three  hundred  to  the  main ; 
Treason  fled  before  us,  for  resistance  was  in  vain, 

While  we  were  marching  through  Georgia.  CHORUS. 


fRa jubilee! 


MASSA'S   IN  THE  COLD,  COLD  GROUND. 


|ffiMW^.UE; 

Round      de     meadows     am     a      ring     -   ing.          De    dar  -  key's  mourn  -  fu) 


While      de    moctingfylrdVai    sing 


All          de     darkeys      am      a     weep    -   ing,  Mas-ea's    in      de     cold,  cold    ground. 


COPYRIGHT,  is^,  BY  FIRTH,  POND,  &  Co. ;  1880,  BY  MRS.  S.  C.  FOSTER  AND  MRS.  MARION  FOSTER 

WKI.CH  ;    1888,  KY  TICKNOR  AND  COMPANY.  —  All  rights  reserved. 


MASSA'S   IN   DE  COLD,  COLD  GROUND. 


ROUND  de  meadows  am  a-ringing 
De  darkey's  mournful  song, 
While  de  mocking-bird  am  singing, 

Happy  as  de  day  am  long. 
Where  de  ivy  am  a-creeping 

O'er  de   grassy  mound, 
Dare  old  massa  am  a-sleeping, 
Sleeping  in  de  cold,  cold  ground. 

CHORUS. 

Down  in  de  cornfield 

Hear  dat  mournful  sound: 
All  de  darkeys  am  a-weeping, 

Massa  's  in  de  cold,  cold  ground. 

When  de  autumn  leaves  were  falling, 

When  de  days  were  cold, 
'Twas  hard  to  hear  old  massa  calling, 

Cayse  he  was  so  weak  and  old. 
Now  de  orange-tree  am  blooming 

On  de  sandy  shore, 
Now  de  summer  days  am  coming, 

Massa  nebber  calls  no  more.  CHORUS 

Massa  make  de  darkeys  love  him, 

Cayse  he  was  so  kind  ; 
Now,  dey  sadly  weep  above  him, 

Mourning  cayse  he  leave  dem  behind. 
I  cannot  work  before  to-morrow, 

Cayse  de  tear-drop  flow, 
I  try  to  drive  away  my  sorrow, 

Pickin'  on  de  old  banjo.  CHORUS 


(All  Je 

J    \ 

mar  m 


an 


-J  C3^±  ^ 


TRAMP!   TRAMP!   TRAMP 


Tempo  di  Marna. 


1.  In      the     pris  -  on     cell       I      sit      Think -ing,  moth-er       dear,       of   you,    And     our 


bright  and  hap  -  py  home    eo    far        a    -  way,     And    the    tears  they  fill      my  eyes  Snjte    of 


I       try       to    cheer    my   com-rad 


neath  the  star  •  ry  flag  We  shall  breathe  the  air  a-gam,  Of  the   free-land  in  our  own  be-lov-ed  home. 


COPYRIGHT,  1865,  BY  ROOT  AND  CADY;  1889,  BY  TICKNOR  AND  COMPANY.—  All  rights  reserved. 


TRAMP!  TRAMP!  TRAMP! 


IN  the  prison  cell  I  sit 
Thinking,  mother  dear,  of  you, 
And  our  bright  and  happy  home  so  far  away, 
And  the  tears  they  fill  my  eyes, 
Spite  of  all  that  I  can  do, 
Tho'  I  try  to  cheer  my  comrades  and  be  gay. 

CHORUS. 

Tramp,  tramp,  tramp,  the  boys  are  marching  • 
Cheer  up,  comrades,  they  will  come, 

And  beneath  the  starry  flag 

We  shall  breathe  the  air  again 
Of  the  free-land  in  our  own  beloved  home. 

In  the  battle  front  we  stood 

When  their  fiercest  charge  they  made, 
And  they  swept  us  off  a  hundred  men  or  more, 

But  before  we  reached  their  lines 

They  were  beaten  back  dismayed, 
And  we  heard  the  cry  of  vict'ry  o'er  and  o'er. 

CHORUS. 

So  within  the  prison  cell 

We  are  waiting  for  the  day 
That  shall  come  to  open  wide  the  iron  door. 

And  the  hollow  eye  grows  bright, 

And  the  poor  heart  almost  gay, 
As  we  think  of  seeing  home  and  friends  once  more. 

CHORUS. 


no   OOP 


f»e&cj\'<i  tRefp  I'mcf 


cr 


we, 


of  feeir\4 
\  °*          0 


•BBBB 


NELLY  WAS  A  LADY. 


,,     Adagto 


Down  on         de         Mis    - 


-      «ng, 


Toll  de     bell        for        lub        ly         Nell    —    My      dark         Vir  -  gin  -  ny          bride 


COPYRIGHT,  1888,  BY  WILLIAM  A.  POND  AND  COMPANY  AND  TICKNOR  AND  COMPANY.  —  ^//  rights  reserved. 


NELLY    WAS    A    LADY 


DOWN  on  de  Mississippi  floating, 
Long  lime  I  trabble  on  de  way, 
All  night  de  cotton-wood  a-toting, 
Sing  for  my  true-lub  all  de  day. 

CHORUS. 

Nelly  was  a  lady, 

Last  night   she  died ; 
Toll  de  bell  for  lubly  Nell, 

My  dark  Virginny  bride. 


Now  I  'm  unhappy  and  I  'm  weeping, 
Can't  tote  de  cotton-wood  no  more ; 

Last  night,  while  Nelly  was  a-sleeping 
Death  came  a  knockin'  at  de  door. 


CHORUS. 


When  I  saw  my  Nelly  in  de  morning 
Smile  till  she  open'd  up  her  eyes, 

Seem'd  like  de  light  ob  day  a  dawning, 
Jist  'fore  de  sun  begin  to  rise. 


CHORUS. 


Close  by  de  margin  ob  de  water, 
Whar  de  lone  weeping-willow  grows, 

Dar  lib'd  Virginny's  lubly  daughter ; 
Dar  she  in  death  may  find  repose. 


CHORUS. 


Down  in  de  meadow  'mong  de  clober, 
Walk  wid   my  Nelly  by  my  side  ; 

Now  all  dem  happy  days  am  ober, 
Farewell,  my  dark  Virginny  bride. 


CHORUS. 


fU^KtvfKe  die.l°, 
belt   /W  ivlly  Well, 

*  «X    „ J  1 


/Mile,  till 

>e»  o 


like  dk  I 


m^m 


OLD  PLANTATION  MELODI1 

By  STEPHEN   COLLINS    FOSTER,   WALTER 
KITTREDGE  and  Others 

Profusely  Illustrated    by   Charles    Copeland, 
Mary  Hallo  cK  Foote  and  Others 

Consisting  of  a  collection  of  genuine  American  folk-lore  songs, 
text  and  music  that  defy  age,  with  full  page  illustrations  and 
appropriate  decorative  head  and  tail  pieces. 

The  contents  are:  — 

MY  OLD  KENTUCKY  HOME ;  MASSA'S  IN  THE  COLD, 
COLD  GROUND;  THE  SUWANEE  RIVER;  MARCHING 
THROUGH  GEORGIA;  TENTING  ON  THE  OLD  CAMP 
GROUND;  TRAMP,  TRAMP,  TRAMP  THE  BOYS  ARE  MARCHING;  N 

WAS  A  LADY.  „      , 

p.SO  Each 


8vo,  cloth,  gilt  top,  with  over  200  illustrations. 


_  rice,  $1.5C 


Y 


MNH 


\ 


